


Zwei, Drei, Vier

by Bronx



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Near Death, Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:33:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bronx/pseuds/Bronx
Summary: Richard, Paul and Flake has disappeared and Till hires a private investigator to speed the police work up.(Or, follow my journey in learning how to write properly)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Zwei, Drei, Vier

I knew I'd fucked up properly this time around. Being handcuffed, with a black bag over my head, and then being shoved into the trunk of a car - it wasn't the best position I've found myself in. I'd always been a nosy one, which had led to my job being what it was, but now it had also proven to be how I found myself in the trunk of a car.    
  
Before long, the car came to a halt, and I was roughly dragged from the trunk of the car. It seemed like I had landed on a cement floor, and guessed that we were in a garage. My captor took a hold of my boot, and began dragging me by it. The concrete was rough and scratched up my skin, but it turned out to be nicer than being dragged down a flight of stairs. I was pretty sure that after hitting my head on every single step, my head was bleeding. As a warm drop of liquid ran down my neck, it was confirmed. I doubt that it'd be something else.    
  
We seemed to have reached our destination though, because I was pushed up against a wall, and something was fastened around my neck. It was heavy and cold, probably metal...    
After that my hands were freed and the black bag was pulled off.    
  
The captor was walking away, as i got to take a first look at my surroundings. The lights were very dim, as I could barely make out some of the corners of the basement, but I could tell that the basement wasn't any old regular one. It was meant to hold people.    
  
As my eyes wandered over to my left, I recoiled in horror at what was right beside me.    
It was clear that the man had been dead for some time, judging by the way he looked... and smelled. Oh God. I could handle violence - but just not death. Nope.   
  
As I desperately tried to crawl away from the body, still held up by his collar attached to the wall, I was reminded that the captor had done the same to me. I too, was chained to the wall by a collar with chain.    
  
I tried to calm myself down by taking slow breaths, but it wasn't really working. The worst part? I knew that man. I'd been hired to find him. Him and his friends. Sitting there chained to the wall was none other than Flake. I could only hope the other two were still alive...   
~   
After I silenced down, my panicked breaths calming down, I heard someone whisper. At least I thought so...   
  
"Hello?"    
  
At first it seemed like i was calling out to nothing but the damp grey walls, but then i heard a soft voice.    
  
"Over here..."   
  
Looking towards the corner from where the voice came, and adjusting my eyes, i could just make out a figure, sitting slumped over in a corner. The white tee they wore helped make out a silhouette, but the dirt on the shirt and the darkness just made it difficult.    
  
After letting my eyes adjust just a bit more, I could tell why the silhouette had seemed strange. In the first person's lap, were another laying. Their chains had probably been attached to the same ring anchored in the wall, much like me and poor Flake...    
  
"What's your names...?"   
"I'm Richard, and that's Paul... and F-Fl..''   
"Flake..."    
  
I filled in as he didn't seem able to say the name out loud. Then and there I thanked the lord for keeping those two alive at least...   
  
You could tell by Richards voice that he was tired and feeling unwell.   
  
"And who are you...?"    
"I uh... Till hired me. Personal Investigator. Sadly, not someone who’s trained in freeing people. I was only meant to find you and hand over the info... Sorry."    
"Till sent you?" A slight spark of hope could be heard in his voice.    
"Till has been going nuts since the three of you were taken... He's been looking as much as the cops"   
"That does sound like him..." a small smile could be heard through the tone.    
"Just... I hope they find us. Till has most of my research, which led me here..."    
  
Our conversation was cut short as a loud gasp and the sounds of someone flailing could be heard. Soon after you could hear Richards voice, but it was hard to make out any words.    
  
Turned out that Paul had woken from a restless nap in Richards lap, and realized that this entire situation was still real, instead of a nightmare. The shorter guitarist seemed to stir a bit before going silent again, probably going back to sleep...    
  
"Is he okay...?"    
"No. He has a huge infected wound. He's burning up from fever and... he's delirious... He doesn't recognize me at times."    
  
The crack in Richards voice revealed that he was falling apart. And rightfully so... He was sitting in a dark, damp basement together with the corpse of what used to be his friend, as his other friend was slowly dying in his arms.    
  
"Richard, look, well get out of here, okay?"    
  
All I got was a heavy sigh, as our conversation then was interrupted again. This time, by the door leading upstairs. Our captor went down the stairs, two small plastic bowls in his hands. The man chuckled darkly as he saw Paul laying pale and sick in Richards lap.    
  
"If only your friends had agreed to pay the ransom... You wouldn't be here. But seems like they don't really care, huh?"    
  
"Liar! You never sent a ransom note!"    
  
I realize too late that I never should have opened my mouth. In the light now emanating from the open door upstairs, I could see Richards face properly, and thus, the horror painted on it.    
  
The captor, still wearing the ski mask from before, simply dropped the food in front of Richard and Paul, his eyes shooting daggers at me. Slowly he walked towards me, I tried to crawl backwards, only to collide with the corpse behind me. I let out a small yelp, which was met with a small dark chuckle.   
A hard boot followed, embedding itself hard into my stomach. Next kick lands on the ribs, and there's some seriously audible snapping noises.    
As I lay there, struggling to breathe, the man grabbed my chin and held it firmly in a position where I am forced to look at him.    
  
"Don't you ever cross me again, got it?"   
  
I manage to make some sort of noise resembling a yes and is promptly let go. With angry steps, the captor goes back upstairs and slams the door, letting us sit once more in complete darkness...

Only when the door upstairs was closed, dared I let out a hacking, painful cough. Propping myself up against the wall again, I concluded that at least one rib was broken, and my left arm was basically useless. Upon a bit of further feeling up my arm, I realized that my collarbone was either dislocated or broken. Shit. 

Across the room, Richard was trying to rouse Paul from his sleep. A small groan could be heard from the latter as he started to move his thin limbs. Richard urged the shorter guitarist to sit up, that he needed to eat. It was with great effort that he got his shaking body sitting upright, and it was just barely that he had the energy to lift the bowl and the spoon. It broke my heart to watch. 

It turned out, that sitting in a dark basement for hours on end is a kind of torture itself. Time kind of lost its concept when nothing happens. Paul kept on sleeping, Richard didn’t have the energy to do other than barely staying awake, and I had to lay on my side at all times to not be in excruciating pain. 

I could’ve sworn that days passed, even though our captor never came back after that last time. Richard insisted that they got fed once a day, but I was starting to doubt that. Either my sense of time was completely off, or we’d been left down here for four days without food. Or water for that matter. 

I was in no means religious, but I found myself praying for someone to find us. Till had almost all my research, I could only hope that my absence would alert him into checking into it. On top of that, I prayed for him to not get too close, like I had. It hadn’t turned out well for me. Often times, these things were the ones that’d lull me into a restless sleep. 

Paul was getting sicker by the minute. I watched, helplessly, as Richard could no longer wake him up. He was still alive, but he wasn’t... there. According to Richard, Paul was currently feeling like he was on fire, and his pulse and breathing was dangerously rapid and shallow.

At the moment, I was keeping myself occupied with going at the collar around the neck, trying to pry it open, trying to pick the lock with various junk I found around me. I wished that I had lockpicking tools on me, but neither did I own any, nor why would I carry them around? In case this happened? Seemed ridiculous – until you were stuck in the position. 

Then, I spot a bobby pin on the floor. It seemed to be just out of reach, but I stretched out my entire body nevertheless, hoping to reach the pin with my toes. 

‘’What are you doing...?’’ 

Richard asked, tiredly. I was too focused to answer, so I just kept trying to reach the pin. Joy sparked in my chest as I felt my toes find the bobby pin, and I carefully dragged it back to myself. As I could finally reach it with my hand, I picked it up and gave it a quick chew to remove the small protective knots at the end of it. Spitting the small plastic beads out, I then turned my attention to the padlock keeping the collar locked around my neck. 

I was quietly wishing that I knew how to actually do this. The padlock had surely been chosen with care, because absolutely nothing happened at first. I sat there for what might have been an hour, but nothing happened. I cursed silently as I told Richard what my plan had been, but that I'd failed. 

That’s when the upstairs door once again interrupted us. Both of us terrified of who it could be, we shut our mouths. The dim light shone down on us, but due to the light source coming from behind, we couldn’t make out who the figure in the doorway was. But the moment the silhouette took a step inside, I could make out the navy uniform. The police. Thank God. 

The cops swiftly searched the basement, before letting paramedics down. What we truly needed. One of the paramedics held a keychain with four keys, and they tried using the keys on the padlocks keeping us locked up. With a small click, Paul was the first one to be freed. Not that he’d know. 

The EMT’s rushed the short man out of there as quickly as possible, seeing as he needed urgent care. Both Richard and I were conscious and could hold a conversation – albeit a very tired and strained one. 

Next click came from Richards padlock, after trying almost all of the other keys on the chain. A sigh of relief escaped over his lips as the collar fell to the side. With the help of a paramedic, he insisted he walk out by himself, and got up on his feet. Going up the stairs was an Everest of  sorts; you could tell by the pace and the look on his face. 

Then the EMT with the keys came to me. With a click and a sigh of relief from me too, I carefully got up off the floor. Seeing as I hadn’t been stuck down here nearly as long, I was stable enough to get up myself. The nurse did walk beside me in case though. As I began my ascent out of the basement, Richard had made it half way. It was by no means a long stair, it was just that his body had been stuck either sitting or lying on a cold, hard concrete floor. Combine that with lack of both food and water, and you’d have his situation right now. As one third was left, the nurses more or less had to carry him. There was no energy left in his poor body. 

We both reached the first floor at the same time, and I watched Richard be loaded onto a stretcher, strapped in and wheeled out. 

I, myself, took a moment to look around, trying to figure out what kind of human our captor was. Scratch that. Had been. He was lying on the couch, and the smell told me that he’d been laying there a good while. Probably since last time we saw him. The couch was stained with a dark maroon bordering into brown, and in the wall around it and in the backrest were bullet holes. 

The nurse saw me look at the man, and gave me a gentle push at my lower back, urging me to go forward and leave the man and his goddamned house behind. I silently agreed on that being a good idea and walked forward, walking out into the fresh air of the night. 

The night sky above was beautiful, stars shining bright and the full moon looking down at the gruesome scene. Outside were three ambulances, one having already left with Paul. Richards was getting strapped into one of the ambulances as I left the house, looking pale and very unwell. I could see he’d let go of a lot of tension after getting out and into good hands. 

As I was walked down to another one of the ambulances, a body bag strapped to a stretcher was wheeled out. Poor Flake... I’d never be able to forget him. 

**EPILOGUE – A MONTH LATER**

I quietly knocked on the doorframe since the door was already open. After a humming ‘’come in’’, I stepped inside and into view. As I came in, I was greeted by three men. Till, Richard – and to my joy – Paul. 

First,  Till got up to give me a huge bear hug, but not before making sure it was okay, with the newly operated shoulder and what not. I smiled at the big German, he reminded me of a huge teddy bear. 

Next, Richard followed. He looked a whole lot better than when I last saw him, down in that horrible basement. He was still wearing hospital clothing, signalling that he wasn’t at 100% just yet. 

Then, in a bit of awkwardness, I realized that I hadn’t really met Paul yet. He’d been more or less passed out while we were in the same room. Hadn’t it been for the skilled doctors though, he’d be dead by now. The short guitarist had been on the absolute edge, battling with sepsis, open wounds, dehydration and malnutrition. The man sitting up in the bed right now seemed like a different person entirely. 

But even though it was kind of our first meeting, Paul insisted on a hug.  So I gently bent over the large hospital bed, careful with my left arm, and gave him a hug. 

Then, being offered a seat by  Till who had pulled out another chair, I sat down. Talking with these people when there wasn’t an emergency hanging over all our heads, turned out to be amazing. They were incredible people. I admit that I really enjoyed their company. 

So, to end this with a Swedish saying, _‘’_ _Slutet gott, Allting gott_ _’’_

**Author's Note:**

> I thank you so so much if you read this entire thing. It means the world to me. Please leave kudos, comments and the like. I do really appreciate constructive critisism! 
> 
> Also, looking for like, idk a friend to discuss writing with, or anything. Hit me up on maximaembra on tumblr. I'm a mess and don't sleep so I'll answer almost around the clock lol. 
> 
> Anyways, have a lovely day <3


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